Wartime in Terabithia
by kyrosthewanderer
Summary: Before he meets Leslie, Jesse has an eerie dream of an unconscious girl drowning. How does the story change? And what if things then start to get weird? Like 'Jess and Leslie get involved in a fight for all of creation' weird? full sum inside
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any publicly recognizable figures, setting, or anything else. They all belong to their respective copyright holders, and not me.

Sum: Before the beginning of the school year, Jesse has a dream about a golden haired girl drowning in a river on and off for about a month. When he meets that girl, Leslie, how does that change the story? And after several events, the least of which being a strange voice showing up in his dreams, Jessie and Leslie somehow end up getting sent to Terabithia, where Jessie must somehow save Leslie, in addition to the rest of the realm, from the Dark Master.

Author's Note: This is a rewrite of "Terabithian" , a fanfic I started and later abandoned roughly two years ago. I have since(hopefully) become a better writer, but my memory of the story/characters is somewhat fuzzier than it used to be, so bear with me here. Also, please note that while I have decided to take a much different approach to the story as a whole, the first few chapters are going to be very similar to "Terabithian", and will be somewhat slow paced. It picks up around ch5.

_He had to save her. He had to. __He __didn__'t know what __he__'d do without her__. And so he ran, t__hrough field and forest__, and over __fence and hill until he came upon a stream__ preg__nant with __the previ__ous night__'s storm. __And as he followed that __stream towar__d__'s where a rope swing hopefully still hung, he heard a __high pitche__d blood curdling s__cream ring out__. The rope had broken, and her body __was swept limply downstream, golden hair writhing in the currents. He dove in after her, __dragging himself through bone-chilling waters until he could reach out and__-_

Jesse's eyes opened upon the darkened room he shared with May Belle.

_Dang it! That__'s the third time I__'ve had that dream this week!_ He thought, rubbing his bleary eyes until they functioned properly in the lightless hours before dawn-The clock read 3:30 in the morning, afterall. And on the night before school started, too. Jess settled in to salvage what he could for his sleep schedule, strained though it was with the repeated dreams of the previous two weeks.

They had come upon him suddenly one night, when he was in the midst of a dream where he was racing in the Olympics. One moment his feet were pounding against the track, and the next against the soft earth near his countryside home.

Three hours later Jesse awoke to perform his morning chores and go for his morning run, only coming to the breakfast table when he was sweaty and his breath came in ragged heaves. After breakfast, and some squabbling between him and his siblings, Jess lead his younger sister May Belle out to the bus stop for the first day of school. He noted absentmindedly that there was a moving truck in front of the old Perkins place, but paid it little mind. _They prob__ably won__'t stay there long anyway, _He reasoned. The place was old and in need of repair, though with a little work it could become livable. Most folks wouldn't stick around long enough to put that work in.

When they reached the bus, Jess sat down away from his sister, though it turned out to be an effort in futility, as she sat next to him anyway. Monster Mouth Myers was halfway through attendance when Mr. Turner introduced a new student, one Leslie Burke. Jess eyed her suspiciously; something about her seemed familiar, some quality about her bugging him in the back of his mind. He passed it off as the strange quality attributed to anyone new in a small town.

He didn't think of her again until recess, when she lined up next to him in the boys' race like she didn't know it was against the rules. Fulcher was quick to jump on this, rather rudely saying, "Hey new girl! This race is for boys only! No girls allowed!"

"What's the matter, Fulcher? Scared you're gonna lose to a girl?" Jess quipped for the sole sake of contradicting one of his several nemeses in his small school. Fulcher grumbled, but said no more, and soon the race was ready to start.

"Ready! Set! Go!" Shouted their referee, and Jesse surged into motion along with the other boys. And Leslie.

Jess then lost himself in the race, running as fast as he could. He sliced through the air like a well honed blade, losing track of the other runners. At that moment he couldn't have cared less about them. He couldn't see them anyway, since he was winning, or so he thought. While he had been caught up in running, and in winning, Leslie had caught up to him, and soon passed him and went through the finish line, beating him by a few feet. I...lost. The thought left him in a daze for the rest of the school day. As he got off the buss, however, he was snapped out of his reverie when he noticed Leslie get off at the same stop. _Does she live near here?_ He wondered, but his sister asked first "I didn't know you lived near us! Is that your house?" May Belle asked pointing to the old Perkins place. "Yeah, we just moved in!" Leslie chimed.

Feeling left out, Jesse said "we live just down the road." pointing in the general direction of their house.

"Well I'll see you guys later then." Leslie told them, running off to her new home, golden hair blowing in the wind.

He stopped walking as it dawned on him.

_Golden hair writhing in the currents._

Leslie was the girl from the dream. Must be just a coincidence. . . Right?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, be it setting, characters, or plot, or any other such thing related to "Bridge to Terabithia"

Author's note: Like I said in the previous chapter, this is a rewrite of the previous story by the same name. I'll let you guys know if/when we get to the new stuff. R&R, please.

Despite his internal revelation that Leslie was the girl he dreamt had died, he still couldn't bring himself to like her after she continued to beat him in races on a daily basis. His myriad defeats aggravated him, so he ran each morning in the spirit of getting better, though it did him little good.

In class, he couldn't help but stare at their music teacher. Afterall, she was beautiful. Leslie off-handedly made a comment about a picture lasting longer, but Jess ignored her. For some reason, she smiled at him during a song, and Jess couldn't find a reason not to smile back. She may constantly beat him in races, but she never lorded it over him or anything, and as he looked back to the past few days, she had been nothing but pleasant towards him if you ignored the occasional comment on his attraction towards Miss Edmunds. He decided he'd give her a shot, as a friend, to which Leslie seemed to catch on almost instantly. She sat next to him on the bus, talking to his sister. To him too, he supposed, but he wasn't really listening.

His mind was occupied with other things, such as the odd dreams he'd had leading up to the first day of school. He'd only had another such dream once since, but even so it creeped him out. A month's worth of dreams was plenty enough to implant every detail firmly in his memory, and the resemblance of the girl in the water to Leslie was striking. They both had roughly the same height, the same lithe build and awkward manner of dress, and their hair was the same blond as well. Jess tried telling himself it was just a coincidence to no avail. He couldn't shake it from his mind, even more so because of the latest dream's addition.

Overall the dream was the same, but sounds other than the scream tormented him. At first it was just a bizarre static noise, like when their old T.V. was on the fritz, but as the dream progressed voices trying to be heard over the static made their way into his ears. At first he couldn't distinguish any words, but as his head fell under the water he was assaulted with a single shouting voice, as if the static had been a million tiny fractions of that august figure to whom the voice belonged, and they now joined together in one.

"**I am the first guardian of ****T****erabithia****, thy humble vassal****. T****he first and the last.****Heed my warning****, you****thful ****K****ing, this ****is but a ****shadow of what will come to be. ****My power will not hold him off for long. ****Do not**** harken to the siren****'s call; Though her voice is pure the ****Dark ****Master****'s barbs sink deeply into her ****heart****!****Take the sword! ****Open ****the gate! ****Save the ****Queen****! ****Unite ****the land a****nd put an end to ****th****at****loath-full**** presence ****now residing in it****!****"**

Despite Jess changing his mind about Leslie, they didn't click much until a few days later when he saved her from Janice, Lark Creek's very own troll. Leslie had been made fun of by everyone for not having a T.V., so she sat in the back of the bus. Where the seventh graders always sat. Whether the seats were previously occupied or not. Jess barely got her out of the way in time. When they got off the bus, she surprised him by saying "Do you think we could do something today?"

May belle, of course, immediately tried to get in on whatever she thought was going on with a "Me too!". _Annoying little sister._

They soon managed to stave her off with promises of gifts.

Finally rid of his kid-sister, they tore through the fields, running like nothing else mattered, until they came upon a creek. This can't be right. Jess thought, doubt forming in his mind as he recognized the rope, dangling over the creek like it had been there for ages and intended to stay for ages more. _If that is the rope from the dream, well the dream rope broke. If this is the dream rope, it will break. Won't it?_ Leslie's voice shook him from his thoughts.

"Do you know what we need Jess? We need our own place, where no one will come and mess it up. What if..." she paused to think, "what if we could only reach it by swinging across on that enchanted rope?"

"That rope has been there for ages Leslie, it'll probably break, lets find another way across." he said, seeing images of the broken rope hanging over the stream. He was worried now, the scene was too familiar: every detail etched into his memory from too many dreams, the only difference now was the level of the water.

"Aw you worry too much Jess, it'll hold." and with that, she was swinging across the divide, staring up into the sky and laughing. The rope held, and that put his mind at ease. He even swung across it himself when she threw the rope back to him. For a while, they just wandered through the forest, passing an old rusted out truck on the way. And then they saw it, an old tree fort. Like ruins in the trees, there was a mysterious atmosphere around it, one holding promise of adventure. Climbing up into it, Leslie described a magical land-Their magical land-filled with prisoners of "The Dark Master" and the few free people left in this magical land. As he joined her at the top of the tree, Jess asked "What do we call this place?"

And Leslie looked off into the distance, a thoughtful look about her, and said "Terabithia."

**I am the first g****uar****rdian of Terabithia.**

Jess almost lost his footing just then.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, be it setting, characters, or plot, or any other such thing related to "Bridge to Terabithia"

Author's note: I decided to take a slightly different path with the story this time. This is, more or less, where the rewrite starts breaking off with both the original story and with "Bridge to Terabithia". Let me know what you think.

"Jess...JESS!!!" Leslie had been calling his name for almost a minute and he had just noticed.

"I'm sorry Leslie, I guess I just zoned out a bit there..."

It had been almost two months since school started, and the weather was cooling down. Since the prophetic voice's appearance, he had not had another strange dream. Or many dreams at all, really. Even so it was creepy. How could he have subconsciously known what Leslie would call a land she had yet to create? Though the dream hardly stopped him from crossing the stream to play in his and Leslie's newfound kingdom, he was careful to check the level of the water each time before crossing. Maybe it was just a dream, but caution never hurt anyone.

"It's okay, but you seriously should pay more attention." she chided as they sat down in the castle (They had finally finished it the week before). "Anyway, what were you thinking about?"

"Nothing important. I just didn't get much sleep last night." He said before changing the subject.

They then went on playing in their imaginary kingdom, fighting squogres and fending off the Dark Master, another piece of his dreams come to life. After a while, their stomachs protested and they "retired to their summer castle" for sandwiches at the Burke house, as had become custom. The Burkes, for their part, had taken well to the two kids' friendship and encouraged their expeditions to the forest with snacks and supplies for the tree fort. They didn't know what the two had built (or if they did, they didn't let on), but they often set aside pretzels, chips, and other non-perishables for the children, and turned a blind eye when a sleeping bag or two went missing.

Jesse's parents were not quite so understanding, but as long as his chores were done and he was back by a decent time, or asked them if he could sleep over at her house, he was given an amount of freedom that was quite liberal compared to the days before he'd met Leslie. Sometimes the sleepovers were genuine, and the Burkes would make cookies and hot chocolate, or some other treat, and Jess and Leslie would stay up late into the night talking by the fireplace. Most of the time, however, Leslie would tell (not ask) her parents she was staying at Jesse's place, and unless there was some good reason why she shouldn't, they both showed up at the rope swing to sleep in their castle.

And for a while, their life found some semblance of normal. Getting up, going to school, Jess drooling over Miss Edmunds and Leslie rolling her eyes at him, coming home together to do homework, and running off to Terabithia. One night, that all changed. For Jess at least. He dreamt again, for the first time in months. He saw the creek, and the rope. And her corpse. He was sure it was her now- she lay face up this time. But he saw other things too; Two tall trees with joining crowns, a bloody sword thrust into the ground beneath them, and beyond them many of the Terabithians, both subjects and enemies to the "king and queen", in more vivid detail than he had ever imagined. Hunch-backed servants of the Dark Master, satyrs and centaurs, elves and nymphs, sprites and pixies, and all other manner of the fae. A silver and grey wolf also sat regally among them, a princely crown upon his head. And above them all, a black-clad figure loomed. Surely it could be none other than the Dark Master Himself, his shadow a ghastly pall thrown over the land. Holding it up was a lone man, his image as faint and see-through as a thin white veil. He raised his scarred and withered arms against the shadow, only barely holding it at bay, his body shaking violently with the effort.

"**I cannot hold him much longer, King Jes****se. You must make Haste!**** Find the sword!****"**The man spoke with the same voice that had spoken in his last dream.

"Where is it?" Jesse asked.

"**I****t lies with fallen ****monarchs**** of old, ****split****in twain ****and ****buried beneath a floor of mist and rain****! ****Find the ****marks of heaven and earth! ****There you will find the pieces****. ****Once you have found it****, ****you must prepare for war****.****"**

__With his cryptic message delivered, the man spake no more, leaving Jesse to fade into the ambiguity of dreamless sleep. When he eventually woke, he wrote down the guardian's words and secreted them away in his drawing pad so that, while he wouldn't forget them, no one else would find them either. Dream or not, it seemed too real to discredit entirely.

The next day on the bus home, after some dim-witted, but effective trickery by the troll, Jess ended up walking home. He wasn't discouraged though. Christmas was a day away and, though he had previously agonized over what to get his best friend, the solution had occurred to him on the way to school one day when the bus had past a sign advertising free puppies. Jess had planned to follow the bus-route to the puppies later, without Leslie, but it would be better if he just picked it up on his long walk home. Afterall, then she wouldn't be suspicious about where he was going.

When he gave the energetic puppy to Leslie, she was ecstatic, hugging Jess and the puppy tightly, her eyes aglow. The puppy was soon dubbed Prince Terrian, and Jesse couldn't help but think of the wolf in the previous night's dream, though the dog and the wolf little resembled eachother except in color. She confessed that she had gotten him an art set, and would give it to him later.

They then introduced "P.T" to Terabithia, and were soon chasing him back and forth across the forest floor, but Jesse stopped dead in his tracks when he saw something on a fallen tree. The tree was a royal oak, which had either fallen from some infirm quality of the ground, or else been felled by a mighty wind, but either way the tree lay across the stream they had been swinging across for so long. That's not what stopped Jess, however, but rather what was engraved in its trunk; Someone had taken it upon themselves to carve at the base of the trunk an image of two clouds parting before the rays of the sun.

Before he had met Leslie, Jess would have discounted it as some fool's random doodle made out of boredom, but since meeting her he had learned to imagine and see in normal things the extraordinary. Thus he knew instantly what the image was. The mark of heaven.

"What's wrong Jess? Did you find something?" Leslie asked, coming back to him with the prince in her arms.

"Mayhaps I did, my Queen," Jesse said, using his best regal language to try and throw her off of his concern over the find, "This here is the mark of heaven, left here by an ancient king, who used to descend into this land by this tree, when it saw better days."

"And so it is!" She exclaimed, jumping at the idea, "And there on the river is where his funeral pyre burned, the only things he took with him being his crown and the hilt of his sword, the blade of which was passed on to the next king!" Her revelation sent a shiver down his spine. It was too eerily reminiscent of the dream. He made a note to come back later and check around the area for another marked tree. _A __fallen__ royal__ oa__k tree_, he reckoned, _A fallen __"monarch__"_.

Soon afterward, before he could manage to find another marked tree, the sky began to turn dark with rain and they left to seek shelter indoors. They parted ways between their two houses, her turning back to flash him a brilliant smile, which he returned, before running off to her house carrying P.T.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, be it setting, characters, or plot, or any other such thing related to "Bridge to Terabithia"

Author's note; What do you think so far, people? I think this is going to be the last chapter for a few days, but we'll see. R&R, please.

Despite his disturbing dreams, Jess found that he had never been happier than the days he spent with Leslie in Terabithia. He had only truly realized it a few days before the coming of Prince Terrian, and, though he continued to enjoy the time he spent with her, after that day there was always a grim undertone he felt deep inside. Something fishy was definitely going on. He had later went to the "mark of heaven" and found the hilt of a sword in the bottom of the creek. It wasn't some simply explanable artifact either, like part of a sword from the civil war that had somehow ended up there. It was an ornate hilt with black leather gripping that seemed none the worse for wear despite its previous watery residence, and the crossguard and pommel appeared to be burnished bronze set with smooth, precious looking blue stones.

If it weren't for the conditions under which he found it, he would be sorely tempted to present the object to his father in order to lessen the financial burden, but with the ominous dreams he felt that he had to keep it tightly under wraps. He didn't even show it to Leslie, or May Belle. And since that day he often led Leslie around the forest in the name of adventure, though his true reason was that he was seeking out the mark of earth. As the days passed, the creek bed held more and more water, and before Jess knew it, it was easter and the mark had yet to be found.

Jess managed to convince his parents to let Leslie come with them to church, and he was surprised at how nice she looked in her dress clothes as well as how polite she was, though he knew it was merely an effort to please his mother, who was afraid of being disrespected.

When all was said and done, Leslie proved to be a fine lady while Jess's sisters acted like spoiled peacocks, though overall the day was a success. That night Jess heard the first Guardian's voice again, though all he saw in the dream was black. There were no more riddles or prophecies, merely a warning that time was running out. Jesse eyed the water level of the creek the next day, eventually deciding that it wasn't quite at the level as in his dream but resolving to build a bridge and take down the rope as soon as possible. Jesse spent his time the following week scouting for building materials and searching for the mark.

When he did finally find the mark, it wasn't on a tree as he had expected. Rather, it was chiseled into a moss covered boulder, an image of two mountains with the moon floating between them. Leslie didn't see the mark, but she did marvel at the size of the rock; it was easily the size of the golden room Jess had helped her family paint. They then set about speculating as to how it got there.

"It was once a great rock giant, a servant of the Dark Master!" Leslie chimed, magic in her voice, "It was in slaying this monster that the blade of the king finally broke from its new handle!" She then added in mock sadness, "Unfortunately, the king who slew the monster was crushed beneath it as it returned to the earth."

"Nothing crushes us, of course." Jess added afterwards, feeling a strange sense of foreboding. He climbed about the rock, poking into various nicks and crannies. He was about to climb off of it when he noticed something peculiar amidst the rubble surrounding the colossal stone. "Err.. Leslie? What's that?" He asked pointing. She was closer after all. She went to where he pointed and shifted some of the rubble before making a shrieking noise and jumping backwards quickly, tripping and falling over. Jesse rushed to the edge of the rock, leaping down recklessly but luckily keeping his feet.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He asked, focused on her and not on what she uncovered. "Are you ok?"

"I-I'm fine." She stuttered, "But he's not." She pointed at what Jesse had seen earlier. It turned out to be a human skull, yellowed and completely bare of flesh; it had been there a while.

"Should we call the cops?" He asked. She nodded and said, "I don't think I'd be able to find my way back, though... Maybe one of us should stay here." Jess agreed and volunteered, arguing that she'd had enough of a fright uncovering the thing.

After she left, Jesse poked around a little more, his nerves on edge. He didn't find a blade, and the only piece of metal around was some rusted piece of scrap sticking out of the rock. How it got there was anyone's guess. What was probably only twenty minutes, but what seemed like hours, passed before Leslie returned with the police, and she shouted his name until he called back and she brought the police to him. Jesse then pointed out the skull they had found, and one of the three police officers escorted the children back to Leslie's home, where the Aarons family had gathered and Jess and Leslie were served hot chocolate as they explained their find to their respective families.

"How did you kids get over there, anyway?" Jack, Jesse's father, asked.

"The policemen brought a couple of boards to lay across the creek, but we used an old rope swing hanging over it." Leslie informed him.

"That doesn't sound very safe!" Their mothers both said at almost the same time. After an awkward moment passed, the fathers agreed as well and deliberated over what to do about it.

"We've still got some extra wood from the remodeling." Bill Burke remarked, "We could use that to make a bridge. What do you say to that?" He asked the question of the whole group, but it was obviously directed at the two kids.

"That would be great!" Jesse said, "I was thinking about making a bridge, but I couldn't find anything to make it with." Leslie shot him an upset look, obviously miffed he hadn't let her in on his plans.

"It's settled then. As soon as this whole thing blows over, we'll build a bridge across the creek." Mr. Burk said, brooking no argument.

The corpse-as it turned out the skull was still connected to a similarly colored skeleton- turned out to belong to Alexander Pendragon, the man that had owned the land he was found on. Investigations returned that while the man was trying to break down the rock so the land was farmable, he had ended up buried in rubble. Unable to unbury himself, and too far away from anyone to call for help, he died there from dehydration. Leslie didn't say anything, but she was obviously creeped out by the similarity between his death and how she had described that of the Terabithian king.

The man's discovery turned up in the papers, but it wasn't a large article and the small town of Lark Creek soon forgot all about it. As promised, Bill Burke helped the kids build a bridge, whenever he took a break from his writing. It wasn't nearly as magical as crossing via the rope, but it made them both feel safer. To eliminate the possibility of his dream coming true entirely, Jess secretly went out and cut down the old rope, borrowing a knife from his dad. As a form of honoring the rope's service, he wove it into the railing of their bridge.

For perhaps the first time since he'd befriended Leslie, Jess felt completely at ease, for the time not worrying about his dark dreams or mysterious prophecies that made no sense worming their way into the real world. He slept well that night. The next night, however, was not so tranquil. As he felt himself fall deeper asleep, his dreams got darker and more twisted, eventually coalescing into a pure black infinity surrounding him.

_Why is it so dark?_ Jesse thought, staring into the darkness. It was a darkness that could easily convince the weak of mind that there was never anything else. He was trapped in this endless abyss. Nothing could permeate this total darkness. And that was what it was: Total Darkness. The darkness was not just one of vision; all of Jess's senses were giving back nothing. He could not feel anything. Not hot, not cold, nothing beneath his feet either, he just didn't feel anything at all but a dull numbness at the center of his being. There was no sound either. It was a silence that made one feel as if there had never been any sound to begin with, like it didn't belong. He screamed inside his head, anything to break that endless nothing, but it was for naught; Even his own thoughts were muted, drowned in the cesspool of darkness.

The lack of feeling was soon replaced by a falling sensation, and the silence became stifling. He felt that he would go crazy if it went on any longer. And then it ended, shattered by the words of the Guardian echoing in the dark recesses of his mind: **"Heed my words once more, Jesse A****arons. It is not over. The river of time**** ma****y change which route it takes to the ocean, but it w****ill always get there, one way or another. You cannot sav****e her while the Dark Master yet lives. You must find the ****cruel, ****crimson****blade**** of the king****, and quickly****, for my power wanes ****as swiftly as the moon. By the time there is only darkness in the night sky, Terabithia will be gone and ****she will be dead. You can still save her****, Jesse. You can still save us all.****" **

The silence resumed, and Jesse plunged into oblivion.

A.N. Well, thats that for now. sorry the writing was a little choppy this time, I'm trying to get it completely past the parts where the original storyline of the book holds sway. I'll be past that point completely by the next chapter, I promise. As always, Please R & R.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, be it setting, characters, or plot, or any other such thing related to "Bridge to Terabithia"

Author's Note: Since I haven't mentioned their age, or indeed, their grade, I think I'm gonna have Jess and Leslie be 13 in this story. Yes, I know that's not quite how it is in the book or movie, but I think that would work better for the story. Not quite too young for what I have planned, but not too old either. 13 is a good year for starting things, I think. In general, I mean. Maybe I'm just weird. R&R

When Jesse woke in darkness, his head was throbbing, and his chest was a mess of heaving emotions, the foremost of which was confusion. When the voice had said Leslie would be dead by the new moon, all that registered within him was the deepest despair he had ever known. As he sat up in bed, he examined his feelings for Leslie. _She__'s my best friend._ He realized, _My only friend._

He'd never really had a best friend before, but then again, he'd never been very friendly. When he thought about Leslie's position in his life, warmth bubbled up from somewhere in his chest, and the thought of that position being jeopardized-even by a dream-filled him with ice cold dread. He resolved to find the sword as the Guardian said, no matter how ridiculous it seemed. He steeled himself and got dressed, despite the late hour, before borrowing a flashlight and heading to Terabithia. He only paused to take the sword handle from its hiding place in a tree's knothole, the relic being obscured with leaves and other forest debris.

When he got there, he wandered around in a daze for a short time before he finally found the rock; He was unaccustomed to the terrain by dark, and there was a distracting haunted look about all the landmarks he still recognized.

There was a certain Tranquility to the boulder, Jess decided when he came upon it, despite what he knew had transpired there. The way the moonlight filtered through the trees made the white rock shine with an ethereal presence that he only hoped he could capture with his drawings, the only flaw in the porcelain stone being a jagged outcrop casting a shadow eerily reminiscent of a hand clutching something desperately. _Maybe that__'s the place the old king stabbed the rock giant,_ Jesse mused, _And the hand is clutching at the wound._On the off chance that his musings were right, Jess climbed to the outcrop, but, though the rocks shape was indeed something like a hand, there was no blade to be found. Sighing, Jesse slid towards the ground so that he could walk the rock's perimeter. _I__'ve gotta find that sword!_

He nicked himself on something on the way down, and when he looked back to see what he'd hit, he saw the piece of rusted metal he'd found before, only this time he realized it wasn't rusted at all. Instead, what he had mistaken for rust was actually the metal's original color, which the moonlight now showed to be perfectly smooth and brilliantly red, like a ruby engulfed in marble. Jesse smiled; He had found it.

Climbing once again part way up the rock's face, he aligned the blade with the handle, not really sure what to expect. Nothing happened, so Jess tried to push the two together and was rewarded with a soft click. After testing the connection by pulling lightly, Jess began pulling progressively harder until the sword was free from the stone, sliding out cleanly and without a sound.

He examined it against the night sky, his eyes following the length of the blade from where it left the handle to where it curved into a point. It was a scimitar, Jess realized, recognizing it from one of Leslie's books. It was lighter than he'd expected, but not so light as to be an ineffectual weapon. Thinking about the book Leslie had showed him got him to think about Leslie again, and his thoughts began to drift towards her warm, bright smile and her animated manner.

"So you finally found it, I see." A voice said, coming from the peak of the small boulder and startling him from his reverie. Jess looked up to see a shimmering image of the Guardian. "And with time to spare too." Said the broad shouldered man-for he was a man, tall and stout with long black hair and a rugged face covered with scars. Behind the man, the half moon glowed, evidence of the time remaining. "Unfortunately, this was the easiest of the tasks before you. But come, I will show you to the gate."

The Guardian then descended from the rock and ventured into the forest, Jesse following behind him. His mind was screaming at him that something was very, very wrong with this picture, but the man's presence felt...right, somehow, and even if it wasn't a smart idea to listen to the man, Jesse would risk it for Les. They passed through the grove, and a little ways beyond it came upon the two trees he had seen in his dream, their crowns interlocking. Between them, where the sword had been in his dream, there was instead a smaller tree, a sapling just losing the green hue of its young bark.

"What is this place?" Jesse croaked, finding his voice at last.

"This is the gate. When the siren calls, you must not accept her offer, no matter how tempting it is. Instead, you must come here, and wait. Eventually, you will hear a scream, and when you do you must cut down the sapling and rush towards the Queen."

"Where will she be?" Jess asked nervously, licking his lips, afraid to hear the answer.

"In the river. Where in the river, I cannot say, but cut down the tree and rush to her as soon as you can. You must be touching her by the time five minutes have passed, else you will be dragged through the gate without her, and the Dark Master will have his way."

The weight of the man's words left Jesse's shoulders sagging under the pressure. He wasn't sure, but if this was all real, and if he failed, Leslie would probably die. "Is there...Is there anything else I should know?" Jesse squeaked.

"Keep the sword with you. Act as if you are sheathing it, placing it at your hip, and it will follow at your side for as long as you wish it to, and only you will see it. Tap it twice and whisper 'To the gate', and it will take you here. Be warned, however, that as you stray from Terabithia, Cruelty's power wanes. It may not be able to take you here if you go too far."

"The sword's name is Cruelty?" Jesse asked. The Guardian nodded. "Hardly a name fit for a king's sword." Jess remarked.

"The sorcerer kings of old thought it wiser to have a kind man wielding a cruel blade than the other way around. Especially after what happened with Elton, the witch-king, but that is a story for another time, for I must go now. If all goes well, I will see you and the queen on the other side, King Jesse." The guardian said, and walked between the trees forming the gate before vanishing.

Jesse felt silly going home with the sword following him, but he was thankfully able to sneak back into his house unnoticed. When morning came, it was as the Guardian said, only he saw the sword. Even Leslie didn't see it. And when he saw her, running up to meet him at the bus stop, he felt that warmth bubble up again, and he wondered what it meant.

At school, he once again found himself staring at the beautiful Miss Edmunds, though it was with a slightly detached feeling tinged with the tiniest bit of guilt. Maybe it was the strange sword floating beside him, but she didn't enthrall him quite as much as before. Jesse re-examined that thought, and wondered if he had gone crazy, or if maybe he had imagined the whole ordeal last night, and was imagining the sword now. When Leslie caught him staring, she simply rolled her eyes at him before passing him a note.

'You realize she's like 15 years older than you, right?' it read, and then farther down the page, 'anyway, do you want to go _there_ today?'

He hastily scribbled an answer back to her. 'It's not like I'm planning to marry her, or anything. It's like looking at art. Just because you like the painting doesn't mean you're gonna buy it.' further down, 'let's see how much homework we have first, and I'll probably have to do chores first.'

"Miss Edmunds!" Fulcher called out, "Jesse and his _girlf__rien__d _are passing notes!"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Jesse said trying to minimize the rumors that were already forming. Now they were passing notes. By the end of the day they would be writing love letters and promising to elope. Such were the rumors in a small school.

"Irregardless," Miss Edmunds said, "Passing notes is against the rules. Jess, Leslie, why don't you two go sit in the hall."

Grudgingly, Jesse followed Leslie out, cursing Fulcher under his breath as he did so.

"I swear, at recess I'm gonna sock the cheeky rat." He muttered.

"Jess!" She exclaimed quietly, "When did you become so violent? And weren't you afraid of Fulcher or something?"

"I'm not violent! I'm just fed up with him is all," Jess said, sitting against the lockers, "And besides, I ain't scared of him, fighting him just hasn't been worth the trouble yet."

Leslie rolled her eyes and sat next to him, her fingers brushing against his and sending a light tingle up his arm. "Right, and Janice Avery is a pretty little princess."

Jesse tried to glare at her, but at the thought of Avery being even remotely princess-y snickered quietly, also trying not to get them into any more trouble than they already were. They talked quietly until lunch, and despite his promises he didn't get into a fight with Fulcher. He did, however, beat the snotty punk in a race, though he still lost to Leslie. He was still slightly miffed about losing the title of 'fastest kid in the ninth grade' to Leslie, but he could live with 'fastest boy in the ninth grade' so long as she was the fastest girl.

_Running with her, win or lose, __is better than beating Fulcher, anyway,_Jess thought, and then wondered where the thought came from.

After lunch, they were allowed back into the classroom, and after school they ended up going to Terabithia after all, though they did stop at Leslie's house to do their homework first. Jess somehow managed to wheedle out of his chores until later. While Jess was a procrastinator, Leslie was anything but, and because of this his grades were steadily improving.

Two weeks passed, the first being a dreary week of school and the second being a dreary, rainy spring vacation. The creek was now nearly as high as in his dreams from before the school year started. Jesse grew anxious, and somewhat restless, due to the strange feelings he was beginning to feel towards his best friend. It eventually led to him not sleeping well during the last few days of spring vacation. On the Saturday of the second week, Leslie proclaimed that a dark curse had been cast on their kingdom, which made him nervous to no end considering how often her words rang true in regards to Terabithia.

But watching her run home made up for it. He stood and stared after her, and when she realized this she smiled shyly at him and gave him a small wave. He smiled back, his face going red at how silly he was, just staring after her

*****

"I called you three times already!" May belle whined, interrupting Jesse from his chores the following morning.

"Called me for what?" Jesse asked, turning to face his sister.

"There's a call for you at the house." She said. "I had to get dressed to come get you!"

"Jess?" Miss Edmunds voice said when he picked up the phone, startling him. "Horrid weather, isn't it?"

"Yes'm." He answered, still recovering from the shock. When he'd recovered, he held a short conversation with her comprised mostly of her inviting him to go to a museum with her and him saying "yes'm." a lot. Soon, he had permission from his mother, finished his chores, and was showered and dressed and ready to go. It wasn't long before he was in Miss Edmund's car and on his way to a perfect day with his beautiful teacher, though something still nagged at the back of his mind in addition to the guilt he felt for not inviting Leslie.

They were both mostly silent for the drive, and it wasn't until they were halfway to D.C. before conversation picked up.

"The weather has just been atrocious lately, hasn't it?" Miss Edmunds said expressing her dismay at the light drizzle that pelted the vehicle, "All this rain, and during spring break, too! It just won't let up, will it?"

"I think it cleared up for a little while, late last night." Jess said, remembering waking up, "I didn't see the moon though, so maybe it just stopped rai-" Jess cut off suddenly, as realization hit him.

"Jess? Is something wrong, Jess?" Miss Edmunds asked, alarmed.

"Can we go back, Miss Edmunds!?" Jess said frantically, "I forgot something important!"

"We're halfway there, Jess. Is it really that important?" He nodded. She sighed and switched lanes towards an off ramp. _Will I make it in time?_Jess thought, _And what about the siren? The Guardian said there would be a siren._ _Maybe I can use the swo__rd!_ Jess's thoughts were frantic and somewhat broken, but he tapped the sword only he could see twice and muttered "to the gate."

At first, nothing happened. A minute passed. And then another. In fact, he was beginning to think nothing would happen at all when, without warning, he felt as if he had been torn into a thousand long slivers of flesh and bone, each of which was then dragged a thousand miles through a fire filled with sharp shards of glass before colliding with a very solid wall.

When he felt the collision, Jesse was suddenly stumbling forwards and tumbling head over heels onto the forest floor. It had worked...Sort of. When he had recovered from the disorientation and ascertained that all of him was there, he realized that though he was in a forest, he wasn't at the gate. He wasn't entirely sure where he was, actually.

"**Quickly! Towards the sun!****"**The Guardian's voice boomed, echoing inside Jess's head.

Jesse was running full speed almost instantly, images of Leslie's broken body floating in the river plaguing his thoughts. Through hills and fields and forests he ran, until about 5 miles later he came upon familiar territory, and adjusted his course towards the gate. He wasn't entirely sure where he was getting his strength from anymore; He had been running faster than he ever had for five miles straight, and he still wasn't slowing down.

As he neared the gate, Jess began to wonder if he should cut down the sapling imediately, or if he should wait until he heard a scream. _What if she__s __already screamed?_He wondered worriedly, and was about to cut the sapling when the Guardian's voice said**"N****ot just yet. You made it just in time; She hasn****'t scre****amed yet.****"** from within Jess' head, the words reverberating in his skull.

Jesse stopped to wait next to the young tree, and wondered how long it would be. A couple minutes passed and Jess was beginning to freak out, pacing back and forth between the trees, sword in hand.

When the scream finally did come, almost identical to the bloodcurdling scream he'd heard in his dreams, he jumped and almost started running before he cut down the sapling. He remembered before he got too far away, however, and was able to scramble back and slice it down without losing too much time.

That being done, he took off running. He had to save her. He had to. He still wasn't entirely sure what his feelings towards her were, but he did know that his life would be a wretched, lifeless existence without her. As he ran, though, Jess realized it was like running through water. What ordinarily would have taken him less than a minute took almost three. When he finally came upon the bridge the first thing he noticed was that one of the rails was missing, which immediately sent his eyes downstream just in time to catch a glimpse of Leslie's jacket right before it sank out of view.

Without hesitation, he dove in after her, the water stabbing icy daggers deep into his flesh. He didn't care. He pulled himself through the water, his arms questing for her desperately. His fingers brushed her jacket, and he flung himself in that direction as best he could, latching onto her and struggling to drag them both out of the water, his whole body getting battered by the rapids. He thrust Cruelty into the bank, using that to pull them both onto the forest floor before replacing it at his hip and turning his attention to Leslie.

"Oh, god...Les..." He muttered, his hand moving her hair away from the gash across her forehead. She wasn't breathing, either. Jess wept and pulled her limp body into a hug, at a loss for what to do. He didn't know CPR, and there was no way he could get anyone who did to her in time. Even if he did, he hadn't the slightest clue what to do about her head wound.

Suddenly, Jess saw a fluttering shadow fly by and felt something tug at Leslie. He instantly lashed out with his right hand and caught hold of hers, and was surprised to find her body still in his left hand. What his right hand held was an ethereal version of Leslie, looking much the way the Guardian had the day Jess had found the sword. Behind Leslie's substance-less form, his talons digging into her back, Jess saw what could only be the Dark Master.

He was much as Jess had imagined him, grey-skinned chin and hands the only flesh visible, the rest being obscured by tattered dark raiments blowing wildly in the wind. He gave Jess a cruel, pointy-toothed smile and said in a low, raspy voice, **"YoU cAn****'t Have her, JesSe. She belon****Gs to ****mE n****-!!!****" **The vicious man's smile turned into a frown as Jess felt himself start to splinter again. The creature turned away from Jess, towards the gate. **"What!****?! What have you done!?! Zain, you bastard! You****'re helping him steal her from me!?**** I****'ll ****rip ****you**** into shreds****, you bastard!!****" **He turned back to Jesse, who was starting to be torn into the long strips again, as he had when he had teleported from Miss Edmund's car. Leslie's body was doing the same, though her spirit was not. The Dark Master snatched her hand from Jess and sneered at him, growling, **"Fine. You can have that half, whelp. I****'ll see you on the other side.****"**before floating away, the ethereal Leslie still in his grasp. The next thing Jesse knew, the shreds of his essence slammed into the gate as if it were the cement wall ending the teleport and looked blearily at his surroundings, seeing cobblestones and flashes of silver fur before fading into unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Bridge to Terabithia related.

Author's note: Ok, I'm bored, so I guess I'm gonna write another chapter. I've only got a vague, long term idea of where I want to go past this point, so I'm just gonna start writing and see where it goes. Let me know what you think.

Jesse woke up dazed and confused, nausea forcing him to remain in his current position, which happened to be lying on his back. Since he couldn't move, he stared up at the ceiling and waited for his vision to focus. He was in a tent, he realized, one that was tan and roughly the shape of a pentagon with a long pole holding up the center of the roof. His eyes scanned the room as much as they could from his current position.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something that stopped his breath and brought terrifying clarity to his thoughts; Leslie. He suddenly remembered everything that had happened before

he'd lost consciousness. He felt the nausea pass and instantly shifted himself to get a better view of her. She was laying across the room on a small cot, much like the one he now found himself on. Her skin was pale, but he saw no signs of pain on her face, and he began to fear the worst.

Jesse stumbled out of the bed, finding that his limbs would not obey him and tumbled to the floor.

He dragged himself across the room until he was at her side, but found himself unable to pull himself up to get a good look at her.

"Fear not, young King; She is alive." Said a voice Jess now recognized. The Guardian's voice had lost its surreal quality now, but perhaps that was because he was no longer a phantom. In the entrance of the tent stood the same battle-scarred man Jess had met at the rock, but this time he was more substantial, had more form. Well, Jess could no longer see through him, anyway. He still looked gaunt and exhausted.

Jesse found himself unable to talk, and could only watch as the Guardian pulled a chair next to her bed and then set Jess in it. She was very pale, more so than he could have seen from his previous distance, and a wicked scar now crossed her brow. "Les..." Jess managed to croak, his throat burning.

"She won't wake. Our healers can mend the flesh, but we cannot replace the soul."

"The Dark Master has it.." Jess whispered in despair, trying not to cause his throat any more harm.

"So he does. I'd expected as much. That's why you had to be touching her body. Had you not, the Dark Master would have taken her soul, and she would have died. Its link to her body would not withstand the transfer between worlds, but since both her body and her soul came here at roughly the same time, the link was not stretched far enough to break it. For the time being, she is safe. As are you. You should rest, we'll talk more later." Jess couldn't talk very well anyway, so he simply nodded and let the man carry him back to his cot.

Seeing Leslie as she was, Jess wasn't sure if he would fall asleep at all, no matter how tired he was. He spent several hours staring at her inert form and thinking about the fun times they had had together, but eventually, sleep did claim him, ushering him into dreams of those cherished times.

When he woke, the Guardian was standing over him.

"My king." He said, by way of greeting, and Jess wondered why he was considered the man's king. He was just a kid, after all. "We have much to discuss. I'm sure you have many questions, but before you ask them I'm going to try to explain the state of things. In case you haven't put two and two together, you are now in the realm of Terabithia, where the intricate weavings of the mind hold sway. The Dark Master now holds most of the kingdom in his thrall. He saw you and her, Leslie that is, as threats to his power, and so tried to break it. Fortunately I caught wind of his plans in time and was able to warn you."

"But how could you know about Terabithia before we created it?" Jesse asked.

"Don't fool yourself, Terabithia has existed, in one form or another, since long before you were born. I'll explain that in more detail in a minute. My name is Zain. I said I'm the first Guardian of Terabithia before, but that's not entirely true. Initially, I was supposed to be the chronicler, only writing down the histories of this land from the sidelines. I..." Zain paused, seeming uncertain of what to say, "That didn't sit well with me. I was cast from that position, and now I am the guide, the one who explains everything to new residents. It seems there are fewer and fewer of them, these days. You and her are the first in five years."

"Why call yourself the Guardian if you're just the guide?" Jess asked, and Zain grabbed a chair and replied simply, "'Cause it sounds cooler.", which made Jesse laugh in spite of his odd situation.

"Terabithia," Zain said, "Is a land with many names, a land that has existed longer than anyone cares to remember. Some people even mistakenly refer to it as the afterlife, but that's not its true form either. Terabithia, as you call it, is a place where all the things that men, women, and even the plants and animals of an era truly believe in come to. Those that truly believe can also send themselves here, by and by. But they can't go back. Rather, they shouldn't be able to, but that's changed recently. The Dark Master, as most know him, is people's beliefs in their fears and in death. And if the Dark Master's power is any means of measurement, the world is a dark place these days. The Dark Master wants nothing more than to bring every thing every where to an end and reduce the universe to dust. Fortunately, as long as one person or one thing believes that he can't do that with enough conviction, then he can't. The problem is that he can now influence the real world, make it darker, make people fear him and thereby make himself more powerful. Do you understand?"

Jess nodded and asked, "But how do we stop him? He has Leslie..."

"We bring the fight to him. Here, in Terabithia, where he can be beaten. We can't kill him, but we can make him lose most of his power."

"How?"

"That's the beauty of it." Zain said, smiling at Jesse for the first time, "By believing we can. It's a little more complicated than that, but that's the gist of it. Here, anyone from the real world can cause things to happen by believing they will. The larger the change the more conviction it requires, but with time you will become strong enough to challenge the Dark Master. I will begin your training personally, when you are well enough for it. Probably tomorrow, or the day after."

"But what do we do in the mean time, while I'm still training? What if the Dark Master comes after me?" At this, Zain's grin widened.

"There's something you need to see." He said, leading Jesse to the tent's entrance, pulling back the flap. What Jess saw made his jaw drop.

The tent was situated at the top of a hill, and all Jess could see for miles was rows upon rows of tents just like it, bizarre creatures of all persuasions wandering between them. There were minotaurs, gnolls, elves, dwarves, hobbits, centaurs, bird men, and all manner of beings, some of which he recognized from various stories but many of which he did not. He even saw a handful of giants wandering in the distance. A cobblestone road cut a path through the tents, skirting the bottom of the hill and extending into the distance, a convoy of wagons pulled off to one side.

By the door to the tent a large white-and-silver wolf stood guard. When the flap was pulled back, it glanced backwards before going back to keeping a look-out. A leather collar was wrapped around its neck, with the initials P.T. being engraved on a tag attached to it.

"Prince Terrian!?!" Jess exclaimed, almost falling over in surprise.

"Told you he'd recognize you." Zain muttered to the wolf. "I think it's the collar." P.T. only snorted, and then looked away. If Jess didn't know any better, he'd say the wolf were embarrassed. "You'll have to forgive him. He's not very talkative." Jess nodded and stumbled back from the tent flap, and Zain let it close. Jess took a seat next to Leslie, and Zain pulled the other chair over from by Jesse's bed.

"That's your army out there. Very few of them are Terabithians in the sense that you and Leslie created them, but the way those that are fought back the Dark Master despite their small number impressed them, gave them hope. We could all use some more of that, these days." Jess nodded solemnly, unconsciously taking Leslie's hand. It was warm, he noted. "The plan is to march on the Dark Master's stronghold with the main force while a smaller, elite force sneaks behind enemy lines while they are distracted. Right now we are about as far from the Dark Master's reach as we can be, so by the time any real fighting starts we'll have you ready to be in the elite group. That team's first priority is to save Leslie, but secondary objectives are to wound or subdue the Dark Master, along with a few other minor goals."

It was two days before Jess could move around without getting nauseous, most of which he spent by Leslie's side. When he slept, he dreamt of waking up in a hospital, the whole ordeal having been a dream. And then he woke up, hunched over in the chair by Leslie's bed, and was very, very confused.

On the third day Zain came to fetch Jess, and brought him out past the encampment into a wide open field. "Training a sorcerer-king gets dangerous." He explained, "Especially before they learn self-control." Sorcerer-kings, as it turned out, were any men or boys from the 'real world' in Terabithia, sorceress-queens being the women and girls. Due to the nature of Terabithia, they could still influence and change it by power of will, despite being a part of it. This made a well trained, strong-willed sorcerer-king or queen very powerful, but it was much harder than Zain made it sound.

They spent the whole day going through concentration exercises, and near the end he began trying to influence the field. The only result was a headache. By the end of the day Jess finally realized that he hadn't eaten anything in three days, but nor was he hungry. He thought this odd, but figured it was another surreal quality of the realm.

The fourth day went much the same, except that the exercises were spent on the move as well. The army had started packing up in the morning, Leslie being carefully loaded into a wagon, and by midday was marching along the road. Jess and Zain followed at a distance.

"Why do we have to be so far away?" Jesse asked, "I can't even make anything happen yet."

"But when you do, it isn't going to be pretty. The reason you can't 'make anything happen' as you put it, is because there is a wall in your mind separating yourself from the land you used to influence with your imagination. In the real world, that separation made it easier for you to believe, and therefore it helped you influence Terabithia. Now that you are a part of Terabithia, however, it has the opposite effect. Because you can physically register it, see it, touch it, smell it, feel it, your subconscious labels this as the real world, beyond your influence. So until you break down that mental barrier and your subconscious accepts that you are a part of this realm of make-believe, as some of our more cynical citizens call it, nothing will happen."

"But why is it dangerous, though?"

"Because as soon as your subconscious realizes that, it tries to impose every physical change you've attempted since coming here all at the same time. In volume. Even having you try to create a pebble becomes dangerous when a million of them start falling like rain."

"Oh." Jesse said lamely, wondering if it would really be all that bad.

As the sun began to set, the army set up camp again, and Jess wandered through the tents looking for Leslie's tent. He didn't find her, but instead came upon a small group of soldiers sparring jovially with swords.

"Isn't that dangerous?" Jess asked, "Wouldn't want anyone to get hurt before the actual fight, right?"

"Oh, it's perfec'ly safe," Said an almost human soldier on the sidelines. His ears and tail gave him away as a Thusian, which Zain had explained was the term used for animals that had brought themselves to Terabithia from the real world. "So long as both parties knows what they's doin'. Ye be a fighter, lad?" Jess shook his head.

"I've never been in a real fight anyway, nothing more than playground squabbles." Jesse explained.

"Ye wan' ta learn?" The Thusian asked, "It'd do ya right good, I reckon. A thinker could lay this 'ere world ta waste, if'n he had enough time to think it strong 'nuff, but fightin', fightin' a man can do any time, whether he thinks er not."

"You'll teach me?" Jesse asked, excitedly. He'd always enjoyed watching the fighting scenes and movies, and had wanted to learn to fight like that for a long time. _It__'s probably not quite the same,_ He thought, _But it wouldn__'t hurt to learn anyway._

"Sure 'nuff, lad. Can't be havin' our new sorcerer cut down cuz 'e couldn' think fast 'nuff . Question is, what kind er figh'er ye want ta be? There's all sorts a types. There's the big strong ones, built like an ox, there's the quick ones, the smart ones, the sneaky ones, all sorts a types!" The Thusian, whose name was Vext, spent a few hours lecturing Jess on the different types of fighters.

"Why aren't you sparring with them?" Jesse asked Vext when the lecture was over. He had already promised to decide what kind of fighter he wanted to be by the next day.

"I'm the cunning type, ye see. I was a fox back in the 'real' world, af'er all. None of these blokes 'ere wants ter pick a fight wit' me, neither. They still try their luck from time ta time, o'course, but they're still smar'in from the las' time they challenged me righ' now."

It was then that Zain chose to show up and lead Jess to the tent he shared with Leslie. From that day on, Jesse spent the next two months learning 'sorcery' with Zain during the day, and learning swordplay and fighting skills from Vext and other soldiers at night. He'd decided he wanted to be a cunning fighter, like Vext in the end, but by the end of the second day he wasn't sure if he was cut out for it. By Vext's account, he would have to be able to quickly analyze his enemy, discern their weak point, and strike with pin-point accuracy. When Jess asked why that was any better than using sorcery, Vext's reply was "It's a diff'rent kind o' thinkin', and af'er a while, it's more instinct than anythin' else."

The wall Zain said Jess had in his mind broke halfway into the first week, and left a mountain of small, smooth river stones lying in the middle of a grassy field and left Jesse with about twenty similarly sized welts and bruises, which blended in with those he earned from Vext and his crew handpicked to train Jess.

What little spare time Jesse had, he spent by Leslie's side, and he found that, though she wouldn't wake, she did give signs of being alive from time to time. Sometimes her body would shift slightly, or her fingers would squeeze his hand when he held hers. He even caught her mumbling in her 'sleep' once. By the end of the first week he found himself talking to her. He knew she couldn't hear him, and he wasn't even particularly sure of what he said, but it made him feel better anyway.

"You really love her, don't you." Zain said quietly one day. Both forms of training had been broken off, in favor of being ready and rested for the battles soon to come. Jess's face flushed bright red at the comment, but he wasn't sure what to say, or even whether or not Zain's comment was true..

"I...I guess I've never really thought about it before. I've never really loved someone that wasn't...you know, family." Jess stumbled over words, trying to voice what he was feeling. "She's my first real friend, too. Before I met her, I was always kind of an outcast, I guess...I was always too worried about my families financial issues to really care about having friends." Zain, for his part, said nothing and simply let Jess say what he needed to. "But I do know I don't like seeing her like this." Jess choked, almost about to cry, "I Just...I just wanna see her smile again."

"That's love alright." Zain said, patting Jess affectionately on the shoulder, "Cheer up Jess, we'll see her smile again yet." Zain then said goodbye for the night and retreated, presumably, to his own quarters.

Jess was about to go to his own cot to sleep when he heard Leslie mutter something. He didn't catch all of it, but it sounded a lot like "Love you too, Jess." He managed to convince himself his mind was playing tricks on him and settled down for bed. The next few days were where things got interesting, or so Zain told him.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from "Bridge to Terabithia", and I am not making a profit off of this story.

Author's note: I'm gonna try and start making even longer chapters, but we'll see how that turns out. I'm shooting for 10k per chapter or thereabouts, in case any of you are wondering, but I probably won't manage that for long, if at all. Life happens, you know.

When Zain had said the next few days would be interesting, he had been drastically understating things. When Jesse stretched in the doorway to his tent, he was startled into wakefulness by a dark shadow on the horizon. Though Jess had slept in, and the sun was indeed high in the sky, far in the distance the sky abruptly changed to night, and on the low hills under that darkened region Jesse saw something that made his breath catch in his throat; An advancing army. They were still too far off for Jesse to see numbers, or, indeed, any detail about the troop, but it was certainly every bit as large as his own, possibly far larger.

There was a frenzy of activity in his own camp, soldiers rushing here and there, pulling pieces of armor into place or strapping weapons to themselves as they went. Vext appeared in front of Jesse, a haggard look about him that Jess knew was due to his sentry duty the previous night.

"Bou' time ye got up, lad. Everyone's runnin' all helter-skelter ta meet tha advancin' army. We was beginnin' ta wonder if ye were gonna sleep through the whole thin'!" Vext said. "Ya think yer ready fer this?"

"Not really." Jess admitted with a trace of despair in his voice. He had improved a great deal with his fighting, to the point where he could challenge a few of the well trained soldiers, but he was no professional. His 'sorcery' left things desired as well. So far he could conjure flame, cause explosions and such, and make heavy objects fall from the sky, but other than that there was little he could do to pose a threat to an army. "I thought we had more time."

"We all did. Somethin's got tha dim one's panties in a bunch, tha's fer sure." Vext considered Jess for a moment before continuing, "Yer cer'ainly no master swordsman, or nothin', but stick close ter me and I'll see you through. If'n we can turn this firs' attack, we can return to Nordsgrad, that stronghold we passed yes'erday. That'll buy us some time. Come now, lad, let's get you some armor."

Jess had trained with and without armor, off and on, during the course of the two months. Vext had said that he needed to know how to fight with armor, but that it was just as likely he wouldn't have time to get any on in time for a fight. He couldn't wear anything heavy, like the plate-mail Vext wore, but he was reasonably decent when wearing a breastplate over brigandine and chain-mail for his upper body along with a tasset and chain mail for his legs.

The metal armor was hot and heavy, and even with the padding he wore underneath the edges of his cuirass cut into his skin. Jess almost wished it would rain, but knew that would only make him more miserable. By the time Jess had gotten into his armor, the rest of the army was forming ranks.

When he had first looked at the army, Jess had thought it would be a mess in formation, with all the different races grouped together, but now that he witnessed it he realized that each race filled a much needed role in the unit. Some of the races had their own separate units, either due to their temperament or strategic advantages.

The minotaur units made up the bulk of the front lines, mostly due to the berserk nature of their charges. Behind them were the naga, a snake like people who favored long pikes that could probably make giants think twice about attacking them. And behind them were dwarves, all of them armed with axes and large shields. Behind the dwarves was where the mixed units began, each battalion seeming to have an exact amount of each race.

"'ere's our spot." Vext said, stepping into line with one of the rear units. "It's not exactly a valorous position, but we wan' you ta stay alive, af'er all. The less figh'in ye see, the better."

Jess stepped into line next to Vext without a word, his mind a nervous wreck on the inside. It was all he could do to keep himself from shaking. In the distance, he began to hear the jeers of the enemy force, which he could now see was composed of as many creatures as his own army, but in the place of the various races under Zain's command were horrid abominations, each as indescribable and terrifying as the last. Some form of horn brayed in the distance, urging the Dark Master's army into a charge.

"Here it comes, lad." Vext said, his becoming voice serious and the ever-present grin leaving his face.

A trumpet sounded from somewhere behind them, and the front units started moving forward, first at a walk, and then, when another trumpet sounded, at a run. "Let's go." Vext said as he moved forward with the unit, which was now running. Jess moved with them, not nearly in time with them, but he hadn't practiced marching.

If it weren't for all the running he'd done over the years, trying to become the fastest, or for the training he'd been going through, there was no way Jess could've kept up with the unit. As it was, he could barely keep pace and he wasn't sure how long he could manage that. After what seemed like a half hour of running, sounds broke out ahead of them.

It was deafening. Steel rang out against steel, along with the shouts and shrieks of men and all other manner of beings. There were even sounds of explosions, and of dragon fire turning flesh into ash. As Jess listened, the sounds seemed to fade into a vague din, occasionally a scream or battle cry standing out from the rest, but otherwise a uniform wall of sound.

And then they hit. It couldn't be described as anything but a writhing, seething mass of metal, fur, scales, and flesh. The stench of thousands of sweaty bodies, combined with the growing piles of corpses, made Jess retch, the vile liquid sloppily dripping down his armor.

"Let it out, lad," Vext advised from nearby, placing a hand on Jesse's shoulder and dragging him to the side. "Yer armor will see far worse than that 'afore the day's through."

Vext was dragging him in the direction their unit had headed off to after meeting the main body of the battle. Most of the wall Jesse had encountered was their own troops, either waiting for a chance or trying to wade forward into battle, though there were a few of the enemy among the ranks. The unit, along with many others, was skirting the side of this mess in order to get at the enemy.

And then they were truly upon the fray, coming upon the un-engaged flank of the Dark Master's army. Dimly realizing that he had ignored his sorcery this whole time, Jesse began dropping rocks into the enemy ranks, starting fires and making explosions. He realized there was no way he could keep that up, however, as he physically engaged the enemy. The first to come against him was some sort of twisted, horned man-frog with wicked tusks and slimy skin. Cruelty was soon in Jesse's hand and he began to put his training to use.

It wasn't long before Jesse was lost in the fray, hacking this way and that, lashing out at anything that so much as flinched at him. Every once in a while he would remember his sorcery and either bombard the main force or use it more judiciously against his current opponent. He was vaguely aware that he was screaming, but he was unsure of how long he had been doing so.

Above all, he was lucky; As a sorcerer-king he had been given nothing but the finest equipment, from his shield that stopped all blows to his mail, which had saved his life a thousand times by the end of twenty minutes. Despite his armor, he still received several wounds, though most of them were little more than scratches.

He also had Cruelty, which more often than not sliced through his opponents flesh, no matter how rough, calloused or scaly, as if it were warm butter. He began to see the reason for the sword's name. As it sliced through flesh and bone, the enemy often started to disintegrate or burn, or have some other equally unpleasant affect bestowed upon them, courtesy of the crimson blade, which seemed to be a cruel smile gleaming with blood of all colors.

After some amount of time, Jesse wasn't sure how long it had been but he did know his arms and legs were sore and would not follow his commands for much longer, there was a rippling wall of flesh rolling outward from some point off to his right. When he looked, he saw a macabre beast the size of a small house, every inch of it covered with some wicked form of natural weapon. Without really knowing why, he waded towards it, only briefly noting that most of the forms around him were allies, and that the battle was going in their favor.

When he came upon the beast, it was on one knee due to a large gash in his thigh from a minotaur's axe. Jesse followed his instinct and leapt deftly up onto its raised knee, his well made boots protecting his feet from the bone-white spikes embedded in its flesh. The creature swatted at him, but Jesse tumbled underneath the blow, cutting a gash in its good leg as he did so. He continued on to leap at its torso, clinging to the mail that was much akin to barbed wire. Before long, he had ascended to the beast's shoulders, dodging its flailing limbs by reflex alone. Climbing atop its horned head, Jesse raised his sword before plunging it deeply into the monster's skull, sending up a plume of brackish blood.

It was a few moments before the behemoth seemed to feel anything at all, but then it teetered a little, and let out a long, low, mournful wail as it collapsed to the ground. Jesse found himself in the arms of his comrades and a cheer went up. There was still scattered fighting, but by and large the battle had been won.

A few units were assigned to clean up duty and went about the tedious process of hunting down the remaining agents of the Dark Master. A few more units were sent to gather the dead. The losses were much less than Jess had expected in the end, but when he finally calmed down and looked at the carnage, he felt like he was going to puke again. He would've too, if he'd had anything left to throw up. Instead, he coughed and dry heaved, only then realizing that he, too, was soaked in gore.

When Vext found him, Jesse was curled up on the ground, shivering and muttering to himself. The Thusian decided it would be more merciful to knock him out than to try and calm him down. Blackness enveloped Jesse.

When Jesse awoke he was beneath the covers of a large, warm bed. The softness left something to be desired, but aside from that the bed was perfectly comfortable. Opening his eyes, Jess realized he was alone in a room with walls of stone. A heavy wooden door closed it off from what he presumed was a hallway, but as of yet he didn't feel he had the energy to find out.

He sank back beneath the covers with a sigh, and tried to remember how he'd gotten there. And then he remembered, and some of the horror of the battle scene came back to him, and he almost thought he would vomit again, but he managed to keep it down. About an hour later Zain came to check on him.

"We're in Nordsgrad right now," Zain told him, "Our scouts haven't detected another of the Dark Master's armies yet, but I fear another attack is not far away. Fortunately, Nordsgrad's walls are high and thick, and its stores will last for months. We'll have plenty of time to train you properly now, especially if we can get your sorcery to the point where you can replenish our supplies. But for now, you should rest. You aren't yet well."

Jess spent the next few days resting for the most part, though he did get out and get a little exercise. Eventually, after trial and error and no less than a few awkward situations, Jesse came upon the room Leslie was being held in.

When he first found it, there was a half-Thusian girl a few years older than him there, feeding Leslie a nutrient rich broth. She was a quiet, shy thing, and almost bolted out the door when Jesse arrived, but he managed to calm her enough that she resumed her ministrations.

"Can I help?" He asked, catching the girl off-guard, but when she tamed her surprise she simply nodded, and handed him the spoon. And that was all that passed between them that day, Jesse slowly spoon-feeding Leslie and the girl, who appeared to be half-Thusian and half human, though it was hard to tell-She could've been a full-blooded Thusian for all he knew, but her animalistic features were much less severe than most Thusians; Her ears were only slightly pointed, though they did carry characteristic fur, she didn't have very prominent fangs, and her eyes were of a regular shape, if not a regular color.

A few more days went by, and Jess paid daily visits to Leslie, encountering the other girl as often as not. She couldn't speak, he learned, a grisly scar on her neck giving evidence as to why. They did manage to communicate, after a fashion, through gestures, pantomime, and as a last resort through writing-The girl, whose name was Kae, was only semi-literate at best, and her characters were sloppy and broken.

Jesse's training with spell and sword resumed with still no sign of another attack by the Dark Master's armies. Whatever damage the battle had done to Jesse's now-healing psyche, it had only done good things for his fighting capabilities. His lessons with Vext achieved a new depth, and sparring sessions with any other soldier often ended with Jesse's victory, even a couple against minotaurs, as ill advised as those were. Vext himself still proved unbeatable, however, and the lessons continued. His spellcraft was no worse, however it was no better either, and in addition to the melee training Jesse's sorcery improved steadily as well.

With all these lessons, however, Jesse found it hard to make his daily visits to Leslie, and often had to miss out on them for two or three days in a row. Much to Jesse's embarrassment, one of the few times he did visit her during the third week of his training, he found Kae in the middle of giving Leslie a sponge bath, her pale skin wet and glistening in the torchlight. He was hastily shooed from the room. Jesse began to question the strange feelings now arising near his navel, and the scene was still vividly imprinted in his mind when he went to sleep that night. From that day on, he was very careful to knock before entering Leslie's room.

While the sorcery training remained relatively constant, Jesse's lessons with Vext became more and more intense, eating away more time from his already busy schedule. Sometimes, he would spar for hours on end, receiving a different opponent every time he defeated one, supposedly building his stamina. While Jesse was beginning to feel good about himself, with his muscles growing and his speed and skill increasing, he also began to despair at the loss of time spent by Leslie's side, until one day Vext pulled him aside in the halls.

"Alrigh', look, lad, ye can't go aroun' alway's lookin like you's about to die. 's bad for morale, ye know. What's eatin' ye, lad?" Vext said, placing a comforting hand on Jesse's shoulder, even if the man's claws were digging into his skin a little.

"Well...It's just..." Jesse started, struggling to voice his feelings, "I know I'm supposed to be training to face the Dark Master and all, but with all this training, I barely get to see Leslie anymore, and even when I do, she's..." Jess drifted off, his countenance going perhaps a bit more somber than it had already been.

"I know ye miss her lad, but trus' me when I say yer better off trainin' for now. The sooner we get you into figh'in shape, the sooner we can rescue the lass from the dim one's clutches." Vext explained, showing an amount of concern Jess didn't know the Thusian had, "Yer about as much of a warrior as I can make of ye now, the res' comes from experience, but ye need to keep training so yer senses don't dull while Zain shapes ye up to be a sorcerer. An' from what I hear, yer not too far off in that departmen' neither. Cheer up, lad, ye'll be marchin' up to the Dark Master's gates before you know it."

The kindly Thusian was right about his sorcery training, Jess decided. The day after that conversation Jesse realized he wasn't so much learning new things he could do with his sorcery so much as learning new ways to apply them, and Jess was beginning to feel a subtle underlay to all that he did with the strange magic now gifted to him. It was like his mind were a needle and his will power was thread, Jess realized, and as he willed something into existence his mind sewed it into place. Feeling this association, Jess decided to try something. Something he had done several times before, but with one subtle difference.

He willed a stone the size of his fist into existence a few meters away from himself, but instead of the normal way he did it, this time he used a different 'pattern', stitched the object into place in a different way. The result surprised him. Where there should have been a smooth, gray stone, there was instead a stone of the same size that glowed with a fiery intensity. When Jess looked to Zain to see his reaction, what he saw startled him. Surprise and confusion were evident. There was also fear.

Without warning, though Jess presumed it was Zain's doing, the burning rock shot up into the air as fast as if it had been shot out of a cannon. Jess wondered what the big deal was, but soon found out as a concussive force knocked him into the ground, forcing him to tumble roughly across the courtyard. Zain was similarly sprawled, as were all the other servants and soldiers Jesse could see. It was a few moments before the force let up. Jesse realized what had happened as he felt out with his mind; His stitching had come undone, and the thread had lashed outwards, striking them all to the ground. That's what he thought, anyway. To be sure, he asked Zain.

"What just happened?" He asked groggily, still recovering from the blow.

"I think you know." Zain said, "Or at least you get the general idea. Your creation came undone, and released the willpower outward as pure force."

"But why did it happen?" Jesse asked, somewhat bewildered.

"You have to understand. The rock doesn't _want_ to exist. Your willpower brought it into existence, but it wasn't enough to hold it there. It broke free into oblivion, and the remaining will that had tried to hold it backfired. Now, I want you to tell me exactly how you did that. This is important."

Jesse then explained how he had realized the metaphor of his mind and willpower being needle and thread, and how he had used different stitching. It was several minutes before Zain next spoke, and by then the concern and fear were gone from his voice.

"Alright, I think you're on the right track with this, but we're going into areas of sorcery I haven't explored. We're going to have to be careful as we experiment with this, ok?" Zain asked. Jesse nodded.

Over the next few days Jesse created a shelter of sorts outside the stronghold's walls, about a mile and a half from Nordsgrad. The shelter was built to withstand large forces without collapse, but even so they were extremely cautious in experimenting, sending any creations high into the sky for at least an hour before bringing it down to be examined, if it hadn't yet ripped itself from reality, or as near to reality as Terabithia ever really got.

During the next few weeks, Jesse experimented with different types of stitching, different thickness and material for the thread, and even how the individual strands of the thread were woven together. The results ranged from disappointing to extraordinary, and he soon had an arsenal of potent 'stitches'. It was time to start marching again, Zain informed Jesse at the end of the month, and it wasn't a day later when the troops and wagons were assembled outside Nordsgrad's gates. Standing by one of the wagons, Kae waved to him, and Jess went to join her.

Despite their march on the Dark Master resuming, Jesse was forced to continue his training, which left his mind and muscles sore, and the countryside pocked with craters. And as the marching continued, the terrain became more and more desolate, more foreboding. The sky took on a permanent darkness, only occasionally broken by red streaks crossing it, giving the appearance that the sky was some black skinned beast, and that it was bleeding. The ground went from grassy and littered with vegetation to barren and hard, and in the distance Jesse could see red-capped volcanoes spewing smoke into the already dark sky.

"What happens..."Jesse asked Zain one day, as they marched onward into the despairing landscape, "When this is all over, I mean. Can we...me and Les, go back home? Or...are we going to be stuck here?"

"I don't know, Jess. It's only because of the Dark Master's power that he could go into your world. I can't even do it, I had to go through the portal he made. When his power is all but gone, the portal may remain open, or it might not...It's anyone's guess."

"I see..." Jess said, looking at his feet. "Well, that's okay then." Jesse looked back up, a sad smile on his face, "As long as I'm with Leslie. I mean, I'll miss my family, already do, in fact, and I'm sure she'll miss hers too, but...at least we'll both be alive, after a fashion."

"Is that truly what you think?" Zain asked, eying Jesse.

"Not really," Jesse sighed, "But I'll take what I can get."

And with that, the conversation was over, and they went back to walking in silence. As the days of marching turned into weeks, and the weeks into years, Jesse put on a lot of muscle both from his long days marching and from his daily fighting practice. He wasn't buff, per say, and he didn't exactly have a bulging physique, but rather he burned of what little fat he'd had and turned his frame into solid, compact muscle.

"Those're fighter's muscles," Vext explained, "Ye get 'em by only usin' the muscles ye'd use to fight. A lot less bulky that way, and they don't get in the way. Those big strong guys yer thinkin' about are still decen' fighters, I reckon, but they're slower and stronger, whereas yer fast and can still pack a decent 'nuff wallop. 'sides, it's not healthy, havin' all dem muscles. If'n a lady had all them muscles, she'd be barren. 'er stomache muscles would crush the baby in the womb! Na', lad, it's better ta have fighter's muscles."

The Thusian had become something of a father-figure to Jess, though he'd never admit it, and aside from Kae and Zain he was the only person Jesse really associated with. Zain was nice enough, but encounters with the man left Jesse feeling like he was just a tool to the man. Kae was invalid for the role for obvious reasons.

As the weeks rolled on and they pressed further into enemy territory, Jesse realized just how expansive the Dark Master's control was, and he began to get worried. The trip was generally quiet, but there were several skirmishes with the bestial figures under the Dark Master's control, each of which left Jesse sick to his stomach and questioning what had happened with is life. He often fondly looked back on the days before he'd come to Terabithia, and found them quickly receding into the distance. It had already been eight months, and from the talk of the soldiers, Jesse surmised he would reach the year mark about a month before confronting the dark master.

Leslie was his sole comfort with all of these thoughts, even in her unconscious half-living state. As his training lessened in the interest of covering more ground and staying on guard, Jesse found he was able to spend more time with her, and even if it was just a precious few minutes it still calmed him enough to move on. If, on one of his darker days, he thought of ending his life in the grim land Terabithia had become, it was quickly banished by the thought of leaving Leslie's soul in the Dark Master's hands.

And so he marched on, for her sake if nothing else, and he idly wondered if she would ever know how much he was going through for her. _How Ironic__ it__ would be__,_ he dangerously thought one day in the midst of a small battle, _I__f__, when it__'s all over, she __doesn__'t k__now, __and she hates me._ As the battle of that day wound down, and he wiped the blackened blood from his crimson sword, he realized that unless he did something to really mess things up between them, then she wouldn't hate him. It didn't help him sleep that night. Or the next. His sleep had become strained from both the battles, and the implications of him adding to their ranks through sorcery.

His Catholic upbringing internally clashed with his newfound god-like powers. He definitely wasn't a god, and the Terabithians didn't seem to see him as such, but it strained his relationship with his one-time deity that he could now with but a thought and a drain on his energy bring a platoon of men and monsters into being. His prayers were frequent and fervent for a time, mostly asking for guidance, but when none came, they eventually died down to once or twice a week. He thought about asking Zain's opinion on the matter, but found he was beginning to dread speaking with the man when it wasn't necessary. To his credit, Jesse did ask P.T., but if the wolf could talk, he gave no indication. It did help to talk about it, though, and for the first time in weeks Jesse slept fitfully, if not well.

The battles were wearing him down just as much as his diminishing faith, chafing at his sense of self until he was no longer sure who he was; Jess, the young artist, or Jesse, the sorcerer-king of Terabithia. There were parts of both he wanted to keep, but he realized there was a growing schism between his two roles, which became most apparent when conversing with Kae using the hand signs he had learned at length. She would often ask him questions, mostly about his life before, and when he asked the same questions of his current self, the difference between the answers surprised him.

He tried to shrug it off as part of being more physically active and in better shape, and he resolved to give Hoager and his cronies a thorough beating if he ever made it back to Lark Creek. He was beginning to doubt he would survive the ordeal, or if he did, whether or not he would remain sane. He was also losing care in the matter, and depression weighed on him heavily.

Horns brayed in the distance, only a few days before the one year mark by Jesse's reckoning, and he surmised, correctly, that the previous months' skirmishes had been mere distractions while the Dark Master's true army formed ranks in front of his lair. The last battle was coming, and as Jesse grouped up with the elite soldiers, among which Zain and P.T. were included, he began to wonder if he was ready.

Soon, it wouldn't matter.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer:I do not own anything from "Bridge to Terabithia", and I am not making a profit off of this story.

Author's note: Sorry this chapter took so long, but life's been a bit busy Also, at one point in the last chapter I put "As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into years", but I meant months instead of years. I don't feel like re uploading just to change one word, so now you know. And so we go.

"All right, here's the plan." Zain said, addressing Jesse and a group of about twenty to thirty men. Vext and a couple others Jesse knew were among them. "We're gonna stay in the middle of the army for the first wave, and as that dies down we're gonna break through to the northwest and fight our way across their flanks. It's a two-day march to the Dark Master's stronghold, but his armies are going to be too busy dealing with ours and they aren't going to care about our small group. After all, what's twenty men against the Dark Master? He's going to be ready for us; He knows we're coming and he isn't afraid of us. Let's go teach him he should be." The men cheered at this, though with little enthusiasm. "Suit up and say your goodbyes to your friends in the caravan. I won't lie to you, this may be the last time you see them."

Jesse felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for the battle to come. He decided to visit Leslie one last time, just in case. Kae was in the tent, but she gave him space, smiling softly. Jesse walked over to Leslie's cot and took her hand, his free hand brushing hair behind her ear tenderly. Hesitantly, he leaned over and brushed his lips against her cheek and stood up. His legs were shaking. He turned to Kae.

"Goodbye," He signed, before saying, "I...I-I've got to go get my armor on now. Got a war to win, y-you know." He sounded more confident than he felt, which was kind of pathetic really, considering he sounded like a meowing kitten in the cold looking for a place to curl up and die. He gave a small wave to her, and went for the door.

He was almost gone when he felt her arms wrap around him from behind, and he felt her face against his back. She was sobbing quietly, mutilated whimpering sounds due to her old injury. Unsure of himself, he turned into her and held her gently, comforting her as best he could. She may have been silent, but she had become a good friend in the previous months, and it hurt him to see her like that. She soon calmed down, and offered to help him with his armor. She didn't say it, but he knew what the gesture meant; She wasn't ready to say goodbye. He wasn't either, really, but he was willing to anyway if he could help Leslie. He wasn't sure if any of this was real anyway.

Back at his tent, he was soon suited up. His armor was lighter this time, to allow for faster movement. It was mostly chain mixed with brigandine, but he also wore greaves, gauntlets, and a full helm along with some shoulder armor. They would be moving fast, and Vext allowed that he fought well enough now that he didn't need heavy armor so much. It would certainly help, but it just wasn't practical.

His armor donned, Jesse hugged Kae one last time before leaving, actually feeling a little more confident afterwards, but it didn't even last until he met up with the rest of the group. Jesse, Vext, and Zain were at the center of their little sortie group. The army was forming ranks around them, soldiers pouring in from all areas of the camp and taking their positions. They would march in file from there, leaving the support caravans behind with a skeleton crew and a sizable guard.

The supply caravan would then flee for safe grounds, since the army had unanimously agreed to come back victorious, or not at all. The action had touched Jesse at the time, but now he felt like it had been a suicide pact, as the final confrontation drew near. What made it worse was that he knew they wouldn't defeat the dark master this day, nor the day after, or the next one after that. It would be a long, drawn out war against the Dark master, slowly draining his power by defeating his troops and forcing him to create more. This battle was just for Leslie.

Thousands of possibly imaginary men were all willing to die for the sake of one girl. It was different for Jesse; He actually knew her. Had his situation been reversed with the guards, he knew deep inside he wouldn't have the conviction to throw his life away for someone he didn't even know.

As near as Jesse understood it, the Dark Master was the embodied notion of fear and death. The more fear people in the 'real' world felt and the more death they saw, the more sheer will power was fed into him, which he then used much as Jesse used his own. His power could be drained by physical attacks, but they would not kill him. In short, it was going to be very difficult just to get Leslie's soul and get away with their lives.

The ranks finally finished forming, and the march began. Even with the armor and the heavy exertion, Jesse still felt cold. It wasn't a physical sensation, he knew, but a result of the fear he felt towards the coming ventures into danger, a fear he knew made his enemy stronger and yet he could not suppress. It was a feeling that even God could not save him now. A feeling that he was isolated and alone, marching into the depths of hell on a likely fruitless venture all for the sake of one girl he'd only known for a year-He wasn't counting the time spent in Terabithia, since he was half convinced he was locked up in a loony bin somewhere.

He steeled himself and marched onward, unsure of himself, unsure of his religion, and unsure that he would make it through the next day. The only thing he was sure of anymore was that he wasn't stopping and that there was no going back. It wasn't just physical retreat that was impossible, either. Sure, he couldn't go back to the stronghold at Nordsgrad, but he also couldn't go back to the innocent little boy he had been before, either.

He would never again walk under the trees in his 'Terabithia' without somewhere deep down inside feeling a small measure of dread. He would never again run a race without feeling the sensation of a battle charge, dark memories flooding him. He would never again feel the same connection he had once felt to his church and to his God. He would never look at Leslie the same way again, either, the girl he now knew he loved. No, Jesse Aarons would never be the same, even if he woke up and it was all a dream.

But it wasn't a dream, and he wasn't in the loony bin. He knew it perfectly on some deeper level. There was a voice in his flesh and in his bones that screamed "This is real! You could die!" to him constantly now, and it was a voice he now took for instinct. In his first battle it had screamed at him constantly to move, first this way then that, to duck, tumble, and run, and to hack and slash his way through the carnage.

Half a day's march found them face to face with the enemy army, and Jesse moved easily into the loping charge. The armies met with impossible force, some of that no doubt due to the energies Jesse had sewn into his own troops' equipment, but the rest was all sheer muscle and pure, unadulterated rage. That last part was mostly the minotaurs, though.

The earth shook with the force of the collision and trembled with the force of the battle. Jesse's elite group was lead to and fro among the throng, conducted to key points in the fight by Zain, who gave all evidence of being a master tactician, whatever else may be said about the man. The fact that he kept the whole group alive well into the night earned him a good measure of respect in Jesse's book, but Jesse still couldn't bring himself to like the man.

Though the sun had long since set, the battle waged on; The enemy was relentless and their number were seemingly endless, which didn't allow for a moment of rest for the weary Terabithians. By the time dawn came Jesse was drenched in gore, and though the field wasn't quite so thick with the enemy their reinforcements showed no signs of stopping. The elite group pressed towards the flanks anyway, considering the first ranks as good as spent. They met with some resistance, but only enough to slow them down.

By noon they were running just outside of the army's flanks, barely beyond range of enemy arrows. The group continued like this for the rest of the day, but stopped to rest around evening. They ate a quick meal of rations, mostly jerky, and rested through the night taking turns keeping watch.

The next few days blurred together for Jesse, mainly due to lack of sleep, but on the second day a macabre, twisted portrayal of a castle showed up on the horizon. It was a lot smaller than Nordsgrad, and the blackened stone was warped and speckled with bits of white. As it got closer, Jesse was able to discern the white chunks as skulls and bones mixed in with the brackish mortar. One of the few benefits of the exhaustion was that he was too tired to be scared anymore, so the bony fortress didn't daunt him.

Though on the approach Jesse wondered how they would get in, he soon realized that wasn't an issue; The drawbridge was down, an ivory platform over a moat filled with briny water. Jesse wondered if there were alligators in the moat, but doubted it. There was probably something far worse in there, he figured. And he was right.

As the elite group uneasily crossed the walkway they could see bone-white corpses just beneath the waves, their gaunt faces withered and stricken with pain. Whatever created the corpses didn't make itself known. The halls of the fortress were empty and labyrinthine, and they were soon lost. It didn't help that not even their best scouts had gotten anywhere near the castle, so they were in completely unknown territory.

At an intersection there was a sudden commotion from one side as a feral beast charged into their ranks. It was like a minotaur, but shorter and stouter, with muscles that bulged beyond reason barely covered by matted fur. The horns were wildly curved and stained with entrails, though none of it seemed fresh. It thrashed about wildly, hurling several men across the room and scattering the rest. A single soldier, a dwarf, decorated its horns. Vext dragged Jesse down a side tunnel as a few soldiers stayed to fight the beast and the rest vanished down various hallways.

"Shouldn't we stay with the group?" Jesse asked him.

"Ideally? Yes. Bu' when we got a bloke like tha' on our hands, we're bes' off gettin' the hell ou'ta there. Our group is very skilled, bu' weapon skills mean very little when ye've no room ta use 'em cus if'n you do ye'll hit the guy nex' ta ya. 'Sides, we cover more ground this way."

"But what happens when...you know, we actually find him?" Jesse asked.

"We're never gonna find 'em till he wants ta be found, lad. That's jus' how he works. Lucky for us, he's a sporting chap and he thinks we're here ta kill 'em. He'll let us find him before we're too weak ta fight, but not before we're too weak ta win. But we don't 'ave ta win. We just have ta get the lass and get out. And he'll keep her wit' him, jus' ta taun' us wit', I can guarantee you tha', lad."

And it was just like Vext said. They must've scoured the whole castle and never found a single door that didn't lead to a staircase, and each staircase, no matter which way they went, took them to a new floor they'd never seen before. It seemed like days before they found a true room inside the building, the entrance to which was covered by a massive gate inscribed with the famous words _"Abandon hope all ye who enter here."_

"I suppose since people believe in it, it has to exist somewhere in this crazy world..." Jesse muttered, more to himself than to Vext, but the Thusian heard him anyway.

"Wha', ye've heard of this, then?" He asked

"Supposedly, those are the words inscribed in the gate to hell in the real world."

Vext was silent for a moment before saying, "That's....comforting."

"Isn't it, though?" Jesse said sarcastically. They pushed the door open together and entered.

The chamber inside wasn't nearly as fearsome as the doorway implied. It was high ceilinged and long, though not particularly wide, with large recesses in the left and right walls. The recesses held large braziers, which warmed the room to uncomfortable temperatures. At the end of the room, there was a large fire behind an altar of sorts, and atop the altar lay Leslie. Or her spirit, anyway. She was pale and translucent, and the firelight flickered through her as if she weren't there, casting the long shadow of the altar across the room.

Jesse moved towards Leslie, the only things keeping his pace at a walk instead of a sprint were caution and instinct. If Vext were right then the dark master would be nearby. When he reached the altar, Jesse took her hand. There was neither a sensation of touch, nor one of warmth, but her hand lifted from the stone altar into his now-calloused hands.

"**She's beautiful, isn't she**?" A voice asked from behind him. Without turning he knew it to be the Dark Master's. He would never forget that soulless voice. He couldn't; It haunted his dreams, as well as his waking mind. When he turned, Vext was nowhere in sight, and the dark figure stood tall in the doorway. The Dark Master did not appear as frail as he had in the real world, and his countenance was full and healthy. His clothes were elegant and whole, almost giving the impression of gentility, or of nobility. His skin was the same grey, however, and his eyes the same black.

"Yes. She is." Jesse answered back, wondering if he could stall for any length of time. His survival prospects had dropped considerably, and his only hope was to manage to get Leslie's spirit away from the foul place. Theoretically, it was as simple as attaching a "Thread" to both her body and her spirit, and by natural tendency the spirit would go back. But her body was miles away and he didn't have enough energy to connect her. "So what now, you kill me, then her, then everything else?"

"**Something like that, yes, though I think I might keep you alive for a while. My spies report you've made some interesting discoveries in sorcery."** He could feel the darkness of the man from across the room, could taste the heaviness of his presence and could feel the will of the masses flowing through him, their threads weaving into a mesh of dark energy. Jesse swam in the miasma generated, and he drank his breaths heavily, trying not to suffocate. "**And I can't kill her yet-not without her body- but I'll get to it eventually. Sure, Zain and his cronies will protect it for a while, but he will slip up sometime. He may be immortal, but he's not infallible. Either way, I suppose you're going to try to stop me, so we should get to it then, shouldn't we? You've got a girl to save and I've got a world to end, afterall.**" The Dark Master grabbed a blue sword out of thin air, one rather uncharacteristic for his person. It was a long, graceful blade the serene color of where the ocean meets the sky.

"A rather nice sword for a macabre depiction of death." Jesse noted, grasping Cruelty and stepping away from the altar. "Come to think of it, you're rather fair minded, too, giving me a sporting chance like this."

The Dark Master shrugged, "**As for the sword, I took it from the corpse of a traitorous wretch that betrayed those who gave him power. And as for myself, well, I am what I am. I could kill you now, if you'd like.**"

"No thanks. But just how does this work, anyway? We just go at each other with swords until one of us is dead? Or can we use sorcery too? And what if, somehow, I win?" Jesse didn't really think he could win, but he was still stalling. If it became a battle of sorcery he had lost before he'd even begun.

"**Just swords is fine. You can use magic if you like, but I suspect you're saving your energy for something. As you please, then.**" The Dark Master took a defensive stance.

And so it began, a battle between a young man and a monster. They circled slowly at first, each waiting for the other to make a mistake. It went on this way for an hour; Jesse couldn't afford to make a mistake and the Dark Master was patient enough to wait for the slip-up that would eventually come. After all, he had all the time in the world.

Jesse let his sword arm dip a little, as if from exhaustion. It wasn't a mistake, not really, though his arm was tired. In truth it was bait, to draw the Dark Master into attacking. It worked, and with a flash he closed the gap between them, sword lashing down from on high.

Jesse parried hurriedly, and used a few faints before swinging in earnest, aiming for the Dark Master's midsection and ducking under and around the Dark Master's blade as it sought his head. Their swords rang out together like lost brothers, each singing in perfect harmony as they crashed. It was a sad dirge, and a mourning of lost friends and enemies slain, and if he weren't fighting for his life Jesse would have cried at the beauty of the sound. Even fighting as he was, it rent his heart in two more surely than if the Dark Master had cloven him from head to toe.

The strange music echoed of the walls as the two warriors ranged about the cavernous room, and as Jesse fought his mind raced, trying to puzzle out how to save Leslie without dying by the Dark Master's hand.

For the Dark Master was winning, there was no doubt about that; Though neither had yet suffered a wound, it was all Jesse could do to keep his head, and in doing so he was wearing himself out while the Dark Master was as fresh as a summer morning.

The battle had pushed them from the altar all the way back to the door, and it was beginning to push them back again when Jesse began to feel something strange in the air. A flicker of his magesight showed the truth of the matter; The two swords had once been one, and they were filling the air with magic as they tried to join together again.

Jesse took hold of the "Thread" they produced as a blow from the Dark Master slammed him into the altar. On a whim he wove one end of the thread into Leslie's soul, lowering his concentration on the fight as he did so. He threw out the other end of the thread, seeking Leslie's body all the way back with the caravan. It was far, too far for his own energies to reach, but not infeasible with the copious amounts of energy nearly tangible in the air.

He continued to stretch his mind as he ducked and dodged around the Dark Master. Moments before the threads connected, he grabbed hold of Leslie, tying himself to her physically and mentally. Seeing a chance, the Dark Master slashed at Jesse's throat. With but a fraction of a fraction of a second to spare, Jesse tugged at the threads and felt his body break as he was pulled halfway across Terabithia.

There was a surreal moment where time seemed to stand steel and Jesse felt the sting of cold steel against his neck and his body seemed to be collapsing in on itself. His bones stretched until they splintered, his muscles tied themselves together and his organs did flips inside him, and for a fleeting, intangible moment, Jesse looked into eternity.

And then, the world went black.

But it wasn't the blackness of death, he discovered a while later. He awoke sore and aching in places he didn't know he had, but he was alive. He tried to move, to open his eyes, to do anything to exert control over his body, but not even the tiniest part of him responded. The room shook, and he heard a horse whinny. It was then that he realized where he was; Somehow he had wound up in the back of a wagon.

Good. That meant it worked.

He relaxed slowly, a serene sense of security washing over him, and he felt a warmth deep inside, strangely accompanied by a dissimilar warmth along his arm followed by a tickling sensation. Jesse briefly wondered if there were a snake, but dismissed that idea for the lack of scales. The tickling came again, and after a few moments again. It came rhythmically, and soon Jesse knew it to be Leslie's breath against his arm.

If he hadn't been calm before, he certainly was now, and he slowly sank back into oblivion. And he was dead to the world, for a time. His body was like lead and his mind hid deeply within himself behind a stone curtain as black as night. He was like this for at least an hour, maybe more. Probably more. Time had little meaning in that place.

"Jess?" A voice called, but it was quiet, distant. Barely there at all. " Oh my god, you're bleeding!" He felt a pinprick of pain, and a slight sticky warmth against the stones that made his neck. "Jesse? Jess, wake up!" The voice was coming closer and it tickled at the back of his mind, but it was still too far off.

There was a distant commotion, and a small wave of more pain and warmth. If the distant voice was right, then he'd been bleeding for a while now. Maybe the cut on his neck was deeper than he'd thought. Maybe it had cut an artery. Then again, maybe not. Even knowing this, knowing that he might soon bleed to death, Jesse was peaceful. There was no other emotion present in him, not fear, not anger, not regret, just an overwhelming and all-encompassing serenity that washed through him like the wind through the trees.

Leslie was safe, all of her. And that was all that mattered. _Wait a minute...Was that Leslie's voice?_ That lone thought broke the still waters of his mind, and Jesse swam through his consciousness searching for the answer. When he found it to be yes, he struggled further to gain control of his body once more. It was hard, struggling against that peaceful stillness, but eventually he managed to crack one eye open.

Leslie was sitting over him and staring down at him with tears in her eyes. Next to her there was a medic bandaging his neck while chanting under her breath. Jesse knew both of her healing efforts were doing little good; He'd already lost too much blood. There was little hope left for him, but even conscious as he was there was no dread of his impending doom. Only the tiniest bit of regret, and even that was fading fast.

Leslie must have seen it in his eyes, for she started crying in earnest, screaming, "Don't you dare leave me, Jesse Aarons!" as she sobbed into his chest.

"Sorry, Les..." Jesse managed to croak.

He was beginning to sink into himself again, but he didn't close his eye. Instead he stared off through the roof of the wagon, and into the sky. If he had been in a better state of mind he might have questioned what he was seeing, but he was beyond questions now. The last bit of his curiosity was thoroughly engrossed in the two near-invisible threads hovering in his vision, one going from Leslie and the other from himself. They both twined around each other in the sky and disappeared into a tunnel that ended in a great whiteness.

With the last bit of his conscious mind, Jesse took hold of those two strings, tugged, and then knew no more.

Author's Note: This is not the end of the story! There will still be at least one more chapter, maybe more!


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait. Life happened. It may happen again. I have nothing else to say.

Disclaimer: I own nothing about Bridge to Terabithia. I only own a couple original characters.

And after an age, Jesse Awoke. Tired and sore and disoriented, but alive nonetheless. White light assailed him, and his head was pounding like an angry monkey had used it for a drum. He shut his eyes tight to block out the glaring brightness. Aside from soreness and the headache, however, he felt weightless and numb. Time passed. He didn't know how long. But the numbness faded away and he found himself in control of his body, though the numbness was replaced by pain. He could deal with pain.

Jesse opened his eyes once more and sat up, finding himself in a hospital bed. He couldn't help but wonder if his journey had been real or just a dream, but he felt it had actually happened. He _knew_ it had happened. Somehow. Looking around, he saw a nurse with her back to him tending the only other patient in the room. Outside the room's only window he saw sunlight, and greenery. _Not a bad view, for a hospital,_ he thought idly before realizing that there was nowhere in the room for the white light to have come from. Had painkillers made it stronger somehow? That seemed unlikely. The room was the same sterile white most hospitals seem to favor, but even in full daylight it had a dimness to it. Jesse shrugged it off, still halfway in a daze. His stomach growled, and the nurse finally turned to face him, jumping almost a foot in the air when she caught sight of him.

"You're awake!" She exclaimed, and bustled over to fuss over him before rushing off to fetch a doctor.

She returned with a middle aged man in tow. His back was bent and his hair line was receding, but it still held all his color and his face held no wrinkles. Old beyond his years was a fitting description. He, too, fussed over Jesse, and Jesse tried to ask him how long he'd been out, but found himself unable to speak. The doctor gave him something. A heavily flavored syrup that stuck to the back of his throat. Whatever it was, it made him drowsy, and he slept for a time.

When he awoke again, his family was around him. Even his sisters.

"We came as soon as we heard," His mother explained with tears in her eyes, both his hands being gripped tightly by one family member or another.

"What happened?" He managed to croak after fighting with the words.

"The doctor said you might not remember," Jack commented. "You were going across the bridge with Leslie and lost your balance. The rail broke and you both fell in and hit your heads. Leslie hit harder than you, they think, since you managed to pull her out of the water and climb out yourself before losing consciousness. You've been in a coma ever since."

The words hit Jesse like bricks. "H-How... How long?" he asked breathlessly.

"A couple months. The school year ended and you'll probably have to retake the year." Jesse's mom said solemnly before breaking down and hugging him tightly, "Oh, honey, we were so worried about you!"

Even his sisters seemed to be moderately worried, and May Belle was damn near hysterical. Jesse felt truly touched by the emotions displayed, especially from his usually stoic father, but a question tugged at the back of his brain.

"How's Leslie?" He asked nervously, afraid to hear the answer.

"She's fine, Jess." His mother answered as she pulled away. She was crying, but she was smiling. "You saved her. She woke up a few days before you, but she's still recovering."

He sighed out the rest of his strength and fell backwards onto his pillows.

"That's a relief," he told his family, closing his eyes and smiling. He didn't witness it, but his parents passed knowing looks to each other and smiled as well.

As it turned out, it was just after lunch, and his family stayed until dinner, catching him up on news and just talking. Jack has gotten a promotion, so money wasn't tight anymore...most of the time. A distant relative had passed away. Mr. Burke's new novel was finished and on it's way through the publishing process. And so on. The time passed relatively quickly, and when they left he felt sorry they were gone, though he was exhausted from all the attention. The other patient in the room had been moved, it seemed, so without them it was somewhat lonely.

About an hour later there was a knock on the door, and when it opened it revealed the backside of a nurse. She backed into a room pulling something, something that turned out to be a wheelchair containing Leslie, who grinned at Jesse like she had won the lottery.

"As soon as she heard you were awake, she said she just **had** to come see you." The nurse said, rolling her eyes. The nurse pushed Leslie up beside the bed and winked at Jesse before saying, "Play nice you two, I'll be back in a few minutes." and walking out of the room.

"Hey Les," Jesse greeted her, forming a grin to rival hers. "How are you?"

"Alright. Weak. Physical therapy is a pain, and I get bad headaches real easy, but I'll survive. Thanks to you, that is. How are you?" She returned the question to him.

"Alright." He answered contentedly, using the same word she had. "I'm alive, and you're alive, and my worst complaint in the world is that I might have to retake the ninth grade. I don't feel weak though... I feel strangely strong, actually." Jesse looked down at his arms and realized for the first time that the muscles he'd developed in Terabithia still clung to his form.

"The doctors said you developed a hormone imbalance when you hit your head. Apparently that can cause you to grow muscles, for some reason. I think it had something to do with testosterone, but I'm not sure." Jesse nodded. That made sense... sort of. "Help me up into this bed, Mr. Muscles," Leslie said, patting the bed next to mine, "This wheelchair isn't very comfortable."

Jesse climbed out of bed and lifted her out of the wheelchair into the other bed, blushing as his hands realized what his brain hadn't; she was wearing nothing more than a hospital gown and her underwear. He deposited her as gently as he could and retreated to his own bed, trying to hide his blush. Leslie rolled her eyes but said nothing.

"I had the craziest dream." She said suddenly, staring up at the ceiling.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I was in Terabithia. Kind of. I was there, but I didn't feel like I was there. You know how you get disembodied sometimes in dreams. It was kinda like that."

"Really?" Jesse asked, wondering if she had shared his dream. Well, not that he had firmly decided it was a dream or anything, but he had nothing better to call his adventure.

"Yeah. I was in the dark master's castle for a while. I'm not sure how long. He seemed angry, but he was also waiting for something. Then one day, he got real frustrated, and left for a little while, and right after he came back you were there, holding a sword and wearing armor. You fought him for a while, but you could only kind of hold him back. And then... And then... I don't know what happened, but we were in a wagon and you were bleeding badly. Next thing I knew, I was awake. Strange, right?"

"Yeah. Strange." Jesse answered. How real was it all, he wondered for about the sixtieth time since he woke up in the hospital.

They talked for a while. Not really about anything. There was a strangeness in the air. An uneasiness. And it was this uneasiness that they tried to break with their idle chatter. The few minutes the nurse promised passed, but there was no sign of her return. Jesse reached across the gap between their beds, fingers outstretched. Leslie smiled and reached her arm across as well, taking his hand. It was not long before they were both asleep, and when the nurse finally did return she dared not wake them.

It was a few more weeks before they were out of the hospital, and a month more still before their parents finally let them back into Terabithia. It wasn't the same, but it was still their kingdom. Leslie seemed changed, too, though Jesse couldn't tell how deep the change was. What was supposed to be a homecoming had turned into a funeral for the two of them, though neither could say who or what was returned to the earth. Perhaps it was a piece of their childhood.

By and by, they found themselves sitting at the bottom of the tree that held their castle, holding hands with their backs against the trunk. The forest was quiet and the world seemed to be in a silent reverie.

"Hey Leslie," Jesse said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah Jes?"

"What color was the sword I was holding?" Jesse asked, not meeting the eyes that probed his face. She furrowed her brow.

"It was red... why?"

"No reason." He answered, looking down at the sword which had appeared at his side once again, invisible to all others.

His adventures were definitely real, he'd decided. He still remembered how to fight, and the sword was there, and the sapling at the gate was cut down. That's where he'd found the sword. He had also discovered what the brightness in the hospital had been; he'd had his magesight activated when he'd woken up. The brightness had been the brilliantly resplendent threads tying the world together. And he'd found his god again, in the firm force that held those threads in place. His sorcery still worked to an extent, but barely on a level that could be considered useful. He could knock a book off a shelf, or make someone think their shoulder had been tapped. If he was feeling particularly strong willed, he could make someone feel as if they'd been punched. Try as he might, he could not untie the knots that bound things in place, and he could not bind new things into existence for any length of time. He could change the patterns sometimes, but only for a little while, and each time he did he felt a powerful presence push against his mind, as if admonishing a child with wandering hands.

"Was the dream real?" Leslie asked at length.

"I think so." Jesse answered, and told her all about his adventures.

"What about the war?" She asked, bringing up something he hadn't considered. "Is it alright that we just left our subjects like that after they went so far for us?"

He thought for a while, but a conclusion came easily to him.

"We'll fight it from this side." He decided. "The dark master is the embodiment of fear and death, so we'll spread hope and love, you with your writing and me with my art. And we'll imagine up armies for them, the likes of which the dark master has never seen! And we'll keep fighting from this side until the only fear left to keep the dark master alive is his own fear of us! After all, nothing crushes us!" It came out more emotional than he'd planned, but Jesse was happy with his response.

Leslie giggled and slugged his arm playfully, intoning "nothing crushes us!" as well.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, and they waited for the sunset together.

Author's Note: This may or may not be the end of the story. I haven't decided yet. Depends on how busy I am, and how much I feel like continuing it. But in all probability, this is the end. If someone's interested in continuing the story from here, I'm willing to entertain the idea, so feel free to pm me though I won't promise a timely response.


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